As advertised, King Kong Frank is front and center inside the Classic Wrestling ring. He plods around the squared circle, swingin’ his chain overhead and hollering unintelligibly for the referee to get this shindig started.
Frank: HUSS! HUSS!! HUSS!!!
Howley: Ya gotta love Frank, am I right?
The Classic fans in attendance certainly do, “hussing” right along with the Smoky Mountain Mastodon as he marches around the ring, feeding off of the frenzy of the crowd.
#A Country Boy Can Survive#
Moss: All I can say for sure is that it’s about to get a lot beefier in here!
Gordy Lovett erupts out from the backstage area, his eyes wild and his mustache bushy! He’s wearing a cut-off tank top with the sleek Hilton Promotions logo plastered across the front in bright colors and bold lettering.
Howley: Yeah, well, if there’s anybody that I like more than that big Hillbilly in the ring right now it’s Doris Hilton! That’s my kind of lady right there!
Doris isn’t two steps behind Gordy, clapping in approval and smirking a shark’s knowing grin. Inside the ring, Frank tosses the chain at the referee, who deftly avoids being knocked all the way out as the Barefoot Brawler turns his full attention on the Texas Stampede!
Frank: COME ON BIG’UN! GIT YOU SOME!
Hank Jr. caterwauls in the background as Gordy literally stampedes the ring, charging in to answer Frank’s challenge with no motivation needed from Doris Hilton. He sheds the half-tank and dives under the bottom rope, rolling to his feet quicker than you’d expect out of a man Gordy’s size.
Moss: These two big bulls are going nose to nose, forehead to forehead right here in front of us Thunderbird, I can’t believe it hasn’t broken down yet!
Kevin Clady calls for the bell.
DING! DING!! DING!!!
The two former friends get to it immediately, a flurry of haymakers coming from both of them as Doris looks on from ringside impressed at the sheer fury of the beef-slappin’ happening ten feet in front of her.
Howley: Are ya sure, Moss? Looks like neither of these big boys is tryin’ to get paid by the hour here tonight! Look at ‘em, they’re still going!
And they are! And good ol’ Hank Jr. is still serenading the studio on the various manners in which a lad from the sticks can make his way in the world as both Frank and Gordy continue to pummel away at each other. Turns out the song makes a decent soundtrack to a butt-whippin’ if you’re picking up what I’m laying down.
Moss: Which one of these guys are gonna run out of gas first, T-bird?
Howley: Don’t look at me, Moss, I’m getting a charlie horse just watchin’ these two go to town on each other!
The song plays on, the studio audience nearly drowns it out with a mixed cacophony of yays and boos as these two behemoths throw bomb after bomb at one another. Neither man gives an inch of ground or leverage as they struggle to be the one to take the first advantage and hopefully capitalize early and often and put this one away before any real damage can be done.
The slugfest continues and both men begin to visibly start gassing at right about the same time. Gordy takes a step back and shouts in a rage of fighting spirit as he rushes forward and tries to take Frank’s head off with a lariat. Frank ducks it like a champ and comes back up with a quick jab right between Gordy’s eyes!
Moss: His eyes have gone crossed!
Howley: What else is new?
Gordy swipes wild and Frank easily avoids that one too. He peppers Gordy with two more quick jabs and a toothy cackle. Gordy shakes the cobwebs out the best he can and rushes in once more, abandoning all pretense of strategy and allowing for Frank to sidestep and use Gordy’s own momentum to turn the big Texan around and surprise him with an Inverted Atomic Drop!
Moss: That one might’ve been a little low!
Howley: Might’ve? Are we watchin’ the same match, Moss?
Gordy crumples inward, keeping his feet by some strange stroke of luck but prancing around in obvious pain as his goods and services have been forcefully inserted somewhere into his lower abdomen. Frank gives another shout and flattens Gordy with a big bare foot to the face!
Frank: HUSS! HUSS!!
Maniac that he is, Frank jumps out of the ring and begins marching around the ringside area, hooting and hollering and causing an all-around ruckus while Gordy sucks wind inside the ring and tries to regain his faculties after that last flurry from Frank. Kevin Clady starts an uninspired count as Frank marches back around ringside and finds Otto Price at his podium and stops to give the Classic Wrestling host a good old-fashioned knuckle-noogie!
Moss: You know, if King Kong Frank could ever get focused, he’d be a major threat to Alex Bruder and the Real Worlds Championship!
Howley: A focused Frank is a dangerous Frank, Moss. Trust me, I’ve seen it, and you don’t want to be anywhere around if and when that man gets focused!
Doris Hilton jumps in front of the Appalachian Nightmare and jabs a finger in his burly chest. She reads him the riot act from top to bottom, doing her level best to buy Gordy some time to get it together before Frank does any more damage! Eventually, the referee gets near on to nine and the lightbulb goes off above Frank’s head before he dives under the bottom rope and hops up to his bare feet.
Frank stalks over to Gordy but of course it’s a trap! The Cowpuncher manages to position himself just so that he could obfuscate a stiff uppercut low blow that buckles Frank and allows Gordy to take the advantage! Doris is pleased as punch on the outside. Gordy goes on the offensive first with a clubbing double-axehandle to the back and shoulders followed by a running hip-check that chatters a few of Frank’s teeth. The Hillbilly Hero tries to shake it off but Gordy takes a three-point stance and charges at Frank like a blitzing d-lineman, flattening him with a gruesome shoulder tackle before throwing the Horns and hooting to the jeering fans.
Moss: The Texas Stampede means business here tonight!
Gordy presses the attack, using his size and power and general rowdy nature to give as much to Frank as Frank gave to him! After several bouts of stomps interwoven with a continuing stream of curses Gordy finally takes a reverse chinlock and settles into his attempt at wrenching Frank’s head clear off of his shoulders.
Howley: He’s gonna open him up like a can of tuna, Moss!
Lovett cranks back on the hold before adjusting his grip and adding in a nasty fish hook for good measure.
Gordy: HEH! HEH! HWAT YOU GON’ DO NOW BWOAH?
The referee chastises Gordy, demanding that he let go of the illegal hold!
Gordy: OOOOOOOOOOOOOW! HE BIT ME!
Howley: HA! FRANK BIT HIM!
Moss: It would appear that he’s still biting him!
Somewhat frustrated, Referee Kevin Clady begins his count again, this time demanding that Frank release the vice grip on Gordy’s fingers.
Frank lets go, Gordy howls in pain and holds out his mangled and throbbing fingers looking for sympathy from anywhere and getting absolutely none. Both men scramble to their feet and they go forehead to forehead in the center of the ring one more time. The jaw-jacking intensifies as each man insults the other. This ends when Frank takes the strap of his overalls down and exposes his bare chest. The gathered fans go bonkers and Frank dares Gordy to take a shot.
A fierce knife-edge chop quiets the crowd and leaves an immediate hand-shape welt across the chest of the Hellbilly Deluxe!
Howley: Uh-oh, here we go!
Frank responds by caving Gordy’s head in with a straight headbutt that leaves absolutely no room for interpretation!
Moss: Is that what you call a “meeting of the minds?”
Howley: That might be a stretch, Moss.
Doris Hilton jumps up on the apron, Kevin Clady gets in her face and pleads with her to take her place back on the floor. This tactic is a mistake, and she goes all-in on him and his idea of where “a woman’s place” should be. Every married man in the audience knew where this one was going well before it ever got there…
Moss: Hey! Is Gordy going into his tights?
Doris’ distraction is everything Gordy needs to play his ace in the hole!
Howley: He sure is! Looks like he’s got himself some kind of brass knuckles!
Gordy loads up and swings for the fences! He connects, but it’s almost as if Frank leaned into it and met his punch with a headbutt! The wound on his head from SLAM-A-THON reopens and a trickle of blood drips down his face and into his beard. He absorbs the blow and a big, goofy, hillbilly grin spreads wide on his face as he reaches out and grabs Gordy by the neck.
Moss: This ain’t good for Gordy!
Frank muscles GLovett up with one arm and unleashes a Smoky Mountain Spike to the Cowpuncher’s carotid artery that causes him to choke, spasm, and land hard on his back on the mat! Doris gets even more animated and Clady gives her the ol’ “YER OUTTA HERE!” before turning his attention back to the action at hand.
Howley: HE GOT HIM, MOSS! IT’S OVER!
Frank leaps onto Gordy and pulls back hard on both legs, putting as much weight and leverage over Gordy’s head and shoulders as possible. Clady dives into position…
DING! DING! DING!
Robbins: Your winner by pinfall… KING KOOOONG FRAAAAAAAAANK!!!
Frank rolls off of Gordy and takes his feet, Kevin Clady raises his hand victoriously as Lovett rolls out of the ring directly into a cold glare from Doris Hilton.
Moss: King Kong Frank picks up another impressive win tonight!
Howley: Ya gotta reckon this thing with Gordy ain’t over.
Moss: I’d agree with that. ANYWAY, we’re gonna step away for promotional consideration, but we’ll be back in ninety seconds with tonight’s MAIN EVENT!